The Dog Blog, Part I

Anyone who lives in or drives through our little slice of the world recognizes us the same way: "You're the people with all the dogs! I see you walking ALL THE TIME!"

We just smile and nod, though to be fair we don't actually walk ALL THE TIME: we walk the dogs a mile or so first thing in the morning and again in the late afternoon or early evening. But I suppose that syncs up with most people's commutes and they probably don't see many other couples with four dogs. Occasionally someone will stop and ask whether we're professional dog walkers... then slowly back away when we reply they're all ours.

As I mentioned earlier, Cary and I each had a dog when we met. His was a female named Sassy, a Black Lab mix who was truly Daddy's Little Girl. They were inseparable, the living embodiment of the dog as Man's Best Friend. He even used Sassy as an excuse to ask me out. He said he needed to get dog food at Costco and would I like to go along. Now I ask you: who could resist such a romantic invitation?

My dog at the time was Conner, an Alaskan Malamute/Husky mix I'd bought as a two-month-old pup. My mom convinced me to go see the puppies, but Conner was the one who chose me: he ran straight at us, launched himself into my lap, and there he stayed until it was time to go. The woman selling the puppies later told us Conner had never approached anyone outside their family before, that he usually hid on the porch.

Cary, Sassy, Conner, and I had a few good years together before Sassy fell ill. During an operation to repair a torn ACL, she got an infection in her bloodstream that in turn attacked her organs. Sassy was a fighter, though, and bravely took all of the medications and treatments we tried. She even spent a couple of weeks in the veterinary hospital, but it was no use. We brought her home and within a few hours she passed away in Cary's lap.

To say the three of us were crushed is insufficient. Cary had lost the first dog of his life, and Conner had lost his best friend. I hadn't known Sassy as long as Cary had, but she was one of those dogs you love instantly if he or she chooses to let you in. Sassy had been a rescue, so trusting people didn't always come easy -- but she adored Cary and, to my delight, trusted his opinion of me.

Conner tried to comfort Cary in their shared grief, but after a few weeks Cary decided he wanted a dog of his own. Some dog owners need time to get over the loss of a pet, and some need to pour their love and attention on another dog as soon as possible. Cary is firmly in the latter group.

So it was off to the Humane Society for us. We walked up and down the rows, but one little Border Collie locked eyes with Cary and wouldn't break loose. When we walked down the next aisle, there she was, waiting and wagging. She even ignored little kids calling her over. She had found her new daddy, thank you very much; your attention is no longer needed.

We brought Conner in to meet her, and that was it: that little Border Collie was home. Wherever Big Brother went, she was right by his side. Conner seemed indifferent, but I think he was happy to have another black dog with whom to play. She had just become available for adoption that day, so we scooped her up.

We'd decided earlier, based on how Sassy had inhaled treats, that we would name our next black dog "Hoover." That didn't seem right for a girl, though, so one quick Google of vacuum cleaner brands later and our newest addition was named Miele. (We later learned the company also makes dishwashers -- still oh so appropriate -- and that we pronounce the name incorrectly: we say "Mee Lee" and they say "Mee La." Whatcha gonna do.)

I have just been informed blog entries are "supposed to be short," so I guess I should end here for now. I'll pick up the story of our furry family in another post soon, so please check back!